The Hobbit of My Affections
by Darkfaery64
Summary: A romantic adventure in which Pippin leaves the Shire rather than declare his love for Merry. Naturally, Merry goes after him. COMPLETE!
1. If You Can't Trust Your ExTavern Maid

**"The Hobbit of My Affections"**

**By Christina**

A/N: This story is a romantic adventure between Merry and Pippin, so if such things offend you...you know the drill. This story is rated R for violence, language, and adult Hobbit situations. Though I generally stick to literary canon throughout this story, I see no reason not to borrow from the films as well, particularly when there are so many wonderful performances to inspire me.

Disclaimer: All these wonderful characters and their universe belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. I'm just having fun in the Professor's extraordinary playground.

**Chapter One: If You Can't Trust Your Ex-Tavern Maid...**

May 1, 1420 S.R.

It was the day of Sam and Rosie's wedding and the Party Field was teeming with dancing, drinking, and cheering Hobbits dressed in their most colorful silks and ribbons. The pavilions were festooned with streamers and May flowers, covering tables laden with the finest fare the Shire had to offer. And the Elven mallorn that was the new Party Tree was shining with fresh golden blossoms. It was the happiest day Hobbiton had seen in a long while, and Peregrin Took was happier than most.

At least he had been, up until about two minutes ago....

Pippin's father, Thain Paladin II, stared at his only son and heir in such a way that told Pippin he needed to be doing something very particular at that moment, but his father expected him to guess what that something was. "Go on, then."

Pippin looked befuddled, signaling that he needed a bit more information than that.

"Dance with her," his father said, as if that was supposed to explain everything.

Unfortunately, it did. Pippin groaned. "This is supposed to be a day of celebration. Why should I ruin it by dancing with Diamond?" Diamond of Long Cleeve was a rather pretty Hobbit lass, but she possessed only enough wit to know a quality jewel when she saw one.

"Because your mother and I wish it," his father replied impatiently. "And despite all of your strange adventures, her parents are quite keen on the match."

Pippin snapped his head around in alarm. "Match? You haven't--but I'm only thirty!" Even though Pippin had achieved world-wide renown and towered over every other Hobbit except Merry, he still wasn't 'of age' and couldn't entirely avoid parental interference.

"True, but it's not too early for an engagement." Tookish engagements were notoriously protracted. The longest engagement in the history of the Shire had been between The Old Took and Adamanta Chubb which lasted twenty-eight years. His father patted Pippin on the back and pointed to a group of Hobbits standing under the neighboring pavilion. "Young Meriadoc is thinking about settling down with Estella Bolger. Saradoc tells me that the delicate negotiations between the Brandybucks and the Bolgers are heating up this very day."

Pippin felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. _Merry was getting married?_ Even his father seemed a little concerned at his son's suddenly dazed expression, but felt a lively dance was the only thing for it. He nudged Pippin in the direction of Diamond, who chose that moment to turn around and wave at him madly. Pippin took a few steps forward, but then recovered his senses. He turned to the left and headed towards the other side of the field.

He watched the dozens of pairs of dancers spinning around on the green, but had no desire to join them. He glanced over to a group of Hobbit lasses surrounding his cousin Merry and a reluctant Frodo. It would have been the most natural thing in the world for him to join them, telling his own stories of his time in the service of Gondor (the lasses never got sick of hearing them), but Pippin felt isolated and awkward.

Everyone but him seemed so ready to move on with their lives. Sam was married and now Merry's parents were in 'negotiations'. He glanced over at his cousin Frodo, who had excused himself and was now quietly chatting with the groom and Pippin's sister, Pervinca. Pippin wished he could be like Frodo, living a bachelor's life and not answering to anyone's demands. He quickly reminded himself how Frodo had suffered because of the demands of others, but at least now he could rest in some semblance of peace. Pippin started when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Now then," said a sweet and friendly voice, "I'll not have such a long face at my wedding, if you please."

Pippin couldn't help but smile at the sight of the prettiest Hobbit bride he'd ever seen. "Sorry, Rosie."

"Now you'll have to dance with me as punishment." She tried to look severe, but failed.

Pippin laughed softly and put his arm around her waist, as Rosie placed her hand in his. "Hardly punishment. You just saved me from having to dance with Diamond."

Rosie rolled her eyes, but they still twinkled with joy as Pippin spun her around the green to the tune of a lively jig.

"I know what your trouble is." Rosie sniffed Pippin's breath and frowned. "You smell sober."

"I am," he replied sadly. "Mostly."

"Well, I'm insulted," Rosie said with a playful smile. "I had fully expected you and Merry to be well into your cups by now."

"Merry's a bit too busy with Estella Bolger to drink with me." Pippin said it with venom, then immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry, this is your day."

Rosie gave him a consoling pat on the cheek.

Partly to change the subject and partly to understand the inner workings of the Hobbit heart, Pippin asked, "How did you know--that Sam was the one for you?"

She giggled blissfully. "Oh, that was easy. One day, almost four years ago, I looked around the _Green_ _Dragon_ and asked myself who I loved the best. It was Samwise Gamgee, of course."

"You loved him all that time and he never knew?"

She grinned wryly. "For a while there I thought I'd be the one to ask him to marry me."

Just then, the tune and their dance ended. Pippin looked down at his feet. "You and Sam are very lucky to have finally found each other."

Rosie looked up at him questioningly, then a light of understanding filled her eyes. "You're pining, aren't you? That's why you're sulking so." She gently turned him around to face the crowd. "Tell me, Pippin, who do you love the best?"

Pippin glanced at Rosie then back at the throng of happy Hobbits. Why not tell Rosie? After all, if a Hobbit lad couldn't trust his ex-tavern maid, who could he trust? After a long pause, he said, "Over there."

Rosie followed his gaze to a threesome consisting of Estella Bolger, Diamond of Long Cleeve and Merry. The lasses were obviously enthralled with one of Merry's stories. "Not Estella, surely?"

"No," he said quickly.

"I'm certain it isn't Diamond, but I know for an absolute fact that she adores you."

Pippin raised an eyebrow.

"Well, she adores the money you'll eventually inherit." Rosie turned to him in confusion. "But that only leaves--" Her eyes grew wide and she put her hand over her mouth. She pulled it away just long enough to whisper, "Merry?"

Pippin nodded miserably.

"Does he know?" she hissed.

"Of course not!" He turned away from her, ashamed.

Rosie put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Pip. Remember that time when you and Merry drank your weight in ale; Merry was passed out in back and you got sick all over yourself. Do you remember what I said when I cleaned you up?"

Pippin cringed at the ignoble reminder of his humbler days, but grinned in spite of himself. "You said, 'I can't afford to be judgmental, I wouldn't have any customers.'"

Rosie stood on her tip-toes and hugged him tightly. "No worries, Pippin, your secret is safe with me."

Many hours later, Sam and Rosie managed to sneak away to Bag End without too much fanfare, but many of the guests still remained. There was just enough food left for a midnight feast and the hardier Hobbits wouldn't think of letting it all go to waste.

Estella Bolger and most of the prettier lasses were not among the lingerers, so Merry found himself quite alone. Strangely, Pippin was nowhere in sight. Merry made an intensive search of the field and finally found his young cousin sitting against a rock, staring out into the darkness. What was stranger still was that he had no drink in his hand or pipe in his mouth. Merry nudged him with his foot.

Pippin whipped his head around and shot his cousin a look of annoyance. Merry ignored it. "Where have you been all day?"

"Right here."

Merry snickered. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were avoiding me."

Pippin's expression darkened further. "You were busy courting Estella. I didn't want to interrupt."

"Since when has my being with a lass ever stopped you from interrupting?" Merry's laugh died in his throat when Pippin just continued to pout. "Why are you acting like this?" Pippin's behavior was completely unlike his usually carefree and cheerful self.

He shrugged. "I'm just trying to adjust to all these changes, that's all."

"What changes?" Merry asked, beginning to get a little annoyed himself.

"Marriage. Not so much Sam's, but I hear you're getting ready to marry Estella Bolger."

Merry laughed. "Who told you that?"

"My father." Pippin allowed himself a slight smirk as he performed his best imitation of The Thain: 'delicate negotiations between the Brandybucks and the Bolgers are heating up enough for a right strong cup of tea.'"

Merry rolled his eyes and sat next to Pippin. "There's nothing settled yet, and _won't_ be for quite some time; but you've always known I fancied Estella." Merry paused. "It doesn't change anything between us, if that's what you're worried about."

Pippin turned and forced a smile that Merry decided to accept as genuine. With a conspiratorial grin, Merry leaned over and whispered in Pippin's ear. "I nicked a great firecracker earlier. I thought we might stick it inside a cabbage and light it. We haven't blown up any vegetables for ages."

At first Pippin gave Merry a disapproving look. They were gentlehobbits and warriors, after all. Perhaps they should be above such childish pranks. But they both still had a mischievous, boyish streak that each hoped the other would never lose. Pippin laughed and sprang to his feet. "What are we waiting for?"

Merry smiled broadly. Everything was back to normal.

"That was the finest cabbage explosion I've ever been party to." Merry was slurring his speech and weaving to and fro as he and Pippin finally made their way to Bag End.

Pippin took his cousin's arm and did his best to keep Merry from falling over. "I know, I was there." Pippin's ardor for Merry was dampened slightly--but only slightly--by the fact that Merry insisted on belching in his ear.

"So you were!" Merry stopped and eyed Pippin, apparently trying to figure out which one of the three he was seeing was the real one. "And you still got a bit a' cabbage stuck in your hair." Merry closed one eye and reached towards his cousin with a dangerously wavering hand. He managed to snatch the singed leaf of cabbage along with a few strands of Pippin's curls.

Pippin cried out and rubbed he scalp, but he couldn't help laughing. For a few brief moments it did feel like things were back to normal, but then he remembered what he had told Rosie. There was no going back now. He had revealed his love for Merry and now the feelings he had tried to suppress all these years were sitting on the surface of his mind, like knives resting on his skin.

He turned the brass doorknob on the round green door and helped Merry inside. Merry stumbled down the hall, occasionally bumping into the rounded walls until he found their bedroom.

Merry tried to pull off his leather doublet, but he had neglected to undo the ties down the side, so he just got himself tangled up in it instead. He turned to Pippin with a comically panicked expression. "Help me, Pip, my clothes are trying to strangle me." Pippin obliged. As he removed Merry's doublet and mail shirt, he tried his best not to become too aware of his nearness. It was all he could do not to reach under Merry's linen shirt and hold him close while he stroked his bare skin.

Even when Merry was at his least attractive (like now), Pippin adored every inch of him, from his breath that was strong enough to kill a troll, to his singed eyebrows. Before tonight, Pippin had thought that once a heart was broken in two, the damage was done, but every time Merry brushed up against him, the wound cut still deeper.

Merry eyed Pippin suspiciously. "I jus' noticed that you're not nearly as drunk as you ought to be."

Pippin grinned. "I wanted to keep my wits about me tonight."

"And what do you need with wits at this time of night?"

"It's morning," Pippin corrected him. "Time for you to go to sleep."

Merry looked as if he was about to protest, but then turned and half fell, half crawled into bed. Pippin pulled the blankets over him.

Merry buried his face in the pillow, but Pippin was still able to hear him say, "Love you, Pip," before he started snoring.

Pippin backed away from the bed and slumped into a chair behind him. His heart contracted agonizingly, the pain now spreading to his whole body. His throat burned until he allowed himself to release the wracking sobs that had been building up inside him.

Merry awoke with the warm, late morning sun beating down on his head. He had often wished that Bag End didn't have quite so many windows, and today was no different; particularly since his skull was pounding. He was alone, but Merry assumed that Pippin had risen earlier and decided not to disturb him. Or had Pippin slept at all? He seemed to remember a strange dream in which Pippin had been crying inconsolably because Merry's head had turned into a cabbage.

He stumbled into the study, not entirely sure if he was sober yet. "Good morning, Frodo," he croaked.

Frodo was working on the Red Book, but paused and turned. Instead of a polite, 'Good morning, Merry,' Frodo laughed heartily. "I would ask you if you've seen yourself in the mirror yet, but it's obvious you haven't, otherwise you would have stayed under the covers."

Merry chuckled at Frodo's remarks in a way that made it clear that he didn't find them the least bit amusing. He patted his hair and realized that a great deal of it was sticking up straight in the air. "I need a cup of tea," Merry said on his way to the kitchen.

"And a bath," Frodo called after him, still laughing. "As soon as possible!"

Merry put the kettle on to boil and stuffed a buttered piece of bread in his mouth as he came back into the study. "Where's Pippin?"

Frodo's smile faded. "He left. I assume he went back to Buckland."

"Left?" Merry said, stunned. "Without saying goodbye?" He looked out the window hoping to see Pippin strolling up the path, but he only saw Sam and Rosie sitting in the garden holding hands. "But we were supposed to stay here for another week."

"It is quite mysterious," Frodo replied. "Whatever his reasons he was very close about them. He was up even before I was. He cooked us all breakfast, then wrote several letters, but I don't think he posted any of them. And then he left."

Merry shook his head in consternation. "He was acting very odd yesterday, but we had no quarrel that I know of."

"Pippin did seem rather preoccupied." Frodo smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry Merry, I'm certain he'll confide in you eventually."

But Pippin did not. The next day, just before afternoon tea, Merry, Frodo, and Sam all received letters from Pippin. The red seal on Merry's had been broken and clumsily resealed with yellow wax. It read:

_Dearest Merry,_

_I have decided to join our friends in the South and hope to be of some little use to them for the remainder of my days. I cannot reveal my reasons for leaving you and the Shire, for they would bring grief and disgrace on Family and Friends._

_Remember me kindly. _

_Good-bye Forever. _

_I am and always will be,_

_Your__ Pippin_

Merry laughed as if that would render Pippin's letter a particularly good prank, but when he saw Sam lower his head sadly and tears well in Frodo's eyes he knew it was no joke. Merry swallowed and found a great lump in his throat that threatened to choke him.

Pippin was gone.

Endnote: I paraphrased my favorite line from _Ed Wood _in this chapter: "He can't afford to be judgmental, he wouldn't have any friends."


	2. Fancy Meeting You Here

**Chapter Two: Fancy Meeting You Here**

After Pippin left Bag End, he rode as fast as he could back to Tuckborough and the Took's ancestral home, The Great Smials. Along the way, he made his plans to leave the Shire for Gondor the very next morning. It was rash, he knew, but he had nowhere else to go. The Shire meant being near Merry; and he'd rather be turned into an Orc than stand around and watch Estella take Merry from him.

Declaring his feelings was out of the question. Pippin had almost blurted out his secret on three separate occasions last night. Once before the cabbage exploded and two times after. It would be pointless to do so--Merry had always liked lasses and had never even glanced at Pippin in the same way he gazed at Estella. The truth would destroy everything good between them. At least if he left now, Merry might forgive him and cherish the friendship they had shared in the past.

Pippin finally reached his childhood home in the late afternoon and stabled his pony. It would have been simpler to go to Crickhollow to pack for his journey, but it would have made leaving even more painful; he and Merry had shared the little house for the past six months.

The Great Smials was a veritable warren of Hobbit holes, housing more than a hundred Tooks. Usually Pippin would welcome the crowd; the throng of relatives used to render him almost invisible, allowing him to go about his business unmolested. But since he had returned from the outside world a hero, aunts who had before called him a 'good-for-nothing rascal,' baked him fine cakes which they plied him with until even Pippin was sick at the sight of them (the cakes as well as the aunts). Uncles and cousins who had thought even less of him, considered it a great honor whenever Pippin caught their eye and mumbled a kind word.

His sister Pervinca--a pretty, dark-haired Hobbit lass--bounded into the great hall, looking more than a little put out. "What are you doing here?"

Pippin smiled. Vinca (as her closest friends and family called her) held an affectionate disrespect for her younger brother that had not altered with his heroic return to the Shire. For that alone she would always be his favorite Took relation. "None of your business. Now get me some tea."

She put her hands on her hips. "Ask nicely or you can get it yourself."

He sighed, suddenly overcome with weariness. "Please, Vinca."

She gave her brother a look of concern, then took his pack from him. "Wash up first and you can have it in the kitchen."

Pippin grinned appreciatively. Since it was so close to supper, the Hobbit women would be too busy cooking to pay him any mind as he sipped his tea in the corner. The parlor, on the other hand, would be teeming with Hobbit men who would no doubt plague him with questions and calls for stories. He trudged to his room to clean up and change into a plain, but finely-made blue velvet doublet and matching breeches.

There was so much to do if he planned to leave first thing in the morning. And though Pippin could avoid his father and uncles by taking tea in the kitchen, they would insist on his presence in the parlor after dinner. He decided he needed an accomplice if he hoped to be ready in time. Somewhat energized with anticipation, Pippin met his sister in the kitchen corner. She had made a new pot of tea and put two of Pippin's favorite frosted white cakes on a plate. "Thanks, Vinca," he said a little too enthusiastically. "Why don't you join me?"

Vinca eyed him suspiciously, but poured herself a cup and sat down across from him. "May I have one of the cakes too?"

Pippin nodded reluctantly. "Anything for my darling sister."

She narrowed her sparkling green eyes. "What do you want, Pippin?"

He didn't even try to deny he had an ulterior motive. "I need your help." He leaned forward and whispered. "I'm on a mission--for the King."

Pervinca gasped. Pippin put his fingers to his lips to quiet her. "What sort of mission?" she asked, wide-eyed.

Pippin immediately felt guilty for lying to her, but there was nothing for it. "I have a message for the King, from Frodo. It is imperative that I deliver it to him in Gondor as soon as possible."

"Gondor!" she breathed. "What does the message say?"

"I can't tell you, silly Hobbit! I will say that if this message should fall into the wrong hands...." He trailed off hoping Vinca's imagination would fill in the rest.

"What can I do?" she asked.

"There's a good lass!" he said, patting her on the arm. "I need provisions--bread, cheese, salted pork, food that will keep for many days. Also a full water bottle and an empty one to carry."

Vinca's face filled with pride. "Don't worry, little brother, I won't fail you--or the King."

Pippin groaned inwardly and gave the other cake to his sister as well. He had suddenly lost his appetite.

After a long supper and endless requests for stories and songs, Pippin locked himself in his room and started to pack. He heard a light knock on the door and started. "Who is it?"

"Vinca, of course," she said irritably. "Let me in!"

Pippin opened the door and Vinca dragged a large sack full of food inside.

Despite his increasing nervousness, Pippin laughed. "I'm taking a message to Gondor, not feeding the entire population of Minas Tirith!"

Pippin's joke not only went unappreciated, Vinca pinched him hard on the arm to show her displeasure. "I went to a lot of trouble to get this for you."

He rubbed the area and could already feel a bruise forming. "Sorry, Vinca, but there's no way I can take it all." He started to snicker. "It would crush my poor pony's back."

"Well, hurry up and take what you need so I can put the rest back before it's missed."

Pippin sorted out the food he needed, then helped his sister carry the sack back to the kitchen. "There's one more favor I need to ask of you," he said, leading her back to his room. He gave her three letters; a fourth, addressed to his parents, he kept to deliver himself. "I need you to post these in the morning."

Vinca nodded, but as she read the addresses she looked up in confusion. "One of them is addressed to Merry. Isn't he going with you?"

"No, not this time." Pippin then led her out the door. "Promise you'll do this for me?"

"I promise."

Vinca took the letters back to her own room so she could examine them further. The other two letters were addressed to Frodo and Samwise Gamgee. Her Took inquisitiveness tempted her to open them, but they were sealed. She studied the circle of red wax impressed with a letter 'B', no doubt for 'Baggins'. Pippin must have written them at Bag End. But if that was the case, why didn't he just deliver them himself while he was there? And why would Frodo need a letter if he was the one who was sending him to Gondor in the first place? After a moment's hesitation, she broke the seal on Merry's letter and read it quickly.

_I cannot reveal my reasons for leaving you and the Shire, for they would bring grief and disgrace on Family and Friends._

She wiped tears of anger and sorrow out of her eyes. What reason could Pippin have for leaving that was so terrible he couldn't even tell Merry? Vinca resealed the letter with her candle and place all three on a chair.

Pippin could leave Tuckborough if he liked, but she would make certain he didn't leave quietly.

Pippin hardly slept and was up before four in the morning. He quickly dressed and had breakfast in his room, set aside from the sack Vinca had brought him. He had packed most everything the night before, so he was ready to leave within the hour. He went to the stable to saddle his pony and load his provisions on the loyal beast's back. Pippin returned to get his pack, but when he opened his bedroom door, Vinca was standing in front of it with their parents standing behind her. "Pervinca Took, how could you?"

"How could you lie to me, Pippin?" He could hear the betrayal she felt in her voice and see it in her tear-filled eyes.

"You wouldn't understand." As gently as he could, he pushed past them, grabbed his pack and hurried out of the great hall, toward the stables

"Come back here now, Peregrin Took!" His father ordered. "Or I'll write you out of my will!"

Pippin stopped and pulled the fourth letter from his pocket. He handed it to The Thain. "You can't write me out of your will because I am no longer your heir."

At the sound of the words, 'will' and 'heir', dozens of sleepy Hobbits emerged from the Great Smials and gathered in the garden to watch.

Pippin patted his pony's head as if to apologize for the long journey they faced. Taking the reins, he mounted her, but he was stopped from any further progress by his father, who grasped the bridle. "Didn't you hear me, boy? Get off this blasted pony!"

It would have been so easy to do as his father demanded. Just forget his whole ridiculous plan and remain in the Shire, living the comfortable life that was expected of him. Easy perhaps, but impossible. Pippin drew his sword slowly, taking strength from the sound of steel being released from its sheath. "Stand aside, Father. My life is my own now."

Paladin Took recoiled in horror at his only son's treachery. A collective gasp rose from the crowd of Tooks, followed by the sounds of hooves galloping east.

Long after their letters from Pippin arrived, Merry continued to pace angrily while Sam and Frodo tried to calm him down. Rosie stayed out of it, sitting quietly in the corner. When she noted the concern on Sam's face at Frodo's obvious weariness, Rosie pulled Merry into the garden for some "fresh air." She stood quietly for several minutes, allowing Merry's rant to subside.

"I think I know why Pippin left," she said softly. "It was something he told me at the wedding."

Merry's face filled with impatience mixed with hope. "Well?"

Rosie winced. "It's a secret. You know I don't tell tales."

"Then why bring me out here in the first place?" Merry replied, stamping his feet.

"That is a fair question." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "What do you suppose Pippin would tell me that he wouldn't tell you?"

Merry sighed irritably. "I haven't got time for riddles, Rosie!"

"I'm afraid I can do no better than riddles," she said firmly. "I promised Pippin I wouldn't tell."

Merry took a deep breath to calm himself and put gentle hands on her shoulders. "Some secrets have to be shared. It's not safe outside the Shire; certainly not for a Hobbit traveling alone."

Rosie's eyes widened in alarm. "But surely after all his adventures and the Battle of Bywater Pippin will be able to take care of himself?"

Merry shook his head, looking doubly worried.

"I'm sorry, Merry," Rosie said with obvious frustration. "It just isn't my place to say. But you must go after him!"

"Oh, I'll go after him, all right, and I'll drag him back here by the scruff of his neck!" After a few hasty good-byes, Merry packed his things, saddled his pony, and galloped off to Buckland.

Rosie sat by the small fire sipping her tea as Sam fussed over Frodo, while the latter protested mightily. Frodo had never looked entirely well since his return from the outer lands. For that and other reasons Sam's devotion to Frodo would never end. And though Rosie knew that Sam loved her, his large heart would always accommodate the members of the Fellowship, especially his former master. They all shared bonds that Rosie could only marvel at, but could never bring herself to be jealous of. She sincerely hoped that Merry did manage to bring Pippin back to the Shire and things could once more be right between them, in whatever way was best.

When Sam had settled Frodo in Bag End's comfiest chair, with a glass of wine and a plate of cheese and fruit within easy reach, he took his new wife's hand and took her to their room.

As he closed the door, Sam regarded Rosie suspiciously. "Call me foolish if you like, but I have a feeling that you're keeping something from me."

Rosie looked up at him with innocent loving eyes, but Sam would have none of it.

"Whatever's going on between Merry and Pippin, it seems as if you're in the middle of it."

"I'm so sorry, Sam, but I can't tell you," she said. "I couldn't even tell Merry. It's a secret."

Sam shook his head and tut-tutted. "Not one week married and already you're keeping things close. It's not right, I tell you. A very poor start to a marriage, if you ask me."

Rosie weakened. She was dying to tell someone, and telling Sam--her darling husband--was almost like telling herself. She crooked her finger and Sam leaned to the side so she could whisper Pippin's secret in his ear.

Sam's head snapped up in surprise. He mulled it over for a few moments, then nodded his head. "That explains a lot."

Unlike the last time he left the Shire for the outside world, Pippin used the Great East Road from the start and made considerably better time than before. He was headed for Bree so he could properly prepare for the long journey to Gondor. Though the road seemed quiet enough--he passed only a dozen carts traveling to and from the Shire--he camped well off the road. Even then he hardly rested. Unpleasant dreams were interrupted by eerie sounds in the trees and bushes. Pippin chastised himself again and again for the way he had treated Vinca and his father. He also missed Merry dreadfully. The pain he had been feeling the other night was excruciating now that he knew he'd never see him again.

Pippin was almost glad when finally, on the evening of his third day in self-imposed exile, he reached _The_ _Prancing Pony._

The proprietor, Barliman Butterbur recognized Pippin immediately, but couldn't recall the young Hobbit's name. Pippin supplied it gratefully and was soon settled into a cozy Hobbit hole. After a nap and a bath, Pippin changed into the King's livery, then made his way to the common room.

Thanks to the Ent-draught he and Merry had drank while in the Fangorn Forest, Pippin stood four feet four inches. That was very tall indeed for a hobbit, but still a child's height to a Man. Every eye turned when he entered the room, for it was also unusual to see a Hobbit who was a servant of the King.

Pippin ordered a pint of _The Pony's_ finest and sat down at an empty table. He glanced at the Men and fellow Hobbits around him, smiling uneasily. No one smiled back. Two Men who were obscured by shadow, emerged into the half-light. They looked foul and dangerous as they stared greedily at Pippin in his finery.

Pippin turned his attention to his cup, wishing he could disappear into it. Suddenly, he didn't feel at all like the brave Hobbit who had killed the Troll-King at the Black Gates. _But that time you were not alone. It's much easier to be brave with your friends by your side. _Under his breath, he said, "I suppose I should have dressed a little less conspicuously."

"A bright orange bonnet topped with pink daisies would have drawn less attention, Peregrin Took!"

Pippin looked up at the sound of the familiar voice and a wave of relief washed over him. "Gandalf!" Pippin cried happily. He glanced over to where the two Men were and saw them making a hasty exit. _Dear old Gandalf_!

The old wizard, who was dressed in an inconspicuous gray cloak, sat next to the Hobbit. He filled his pipe and lit it, shaking his head as he looked Pippin up and down.

Pippin felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I thought it would help matters if I looked official. I am the King's Messenger, after all."

"And I am the White Wizard," he said in a low voice, "but I do not find it wise to advertise that fact unless I feel that doing so would be to my distinct advantage."

The Hobbit sighed. "Go on, then. Say it, I know you're dying to: 'fool of a Took!'"

"I would, but now there would be no point to it."

"Just as well," Pippin told him. "I'm in no mood for recriminations." He almost added, 'Aren't you going to ask me why?' but stopped himself in time. He didn't want Gandalf to know why he had left the Shire. Telling Rosie had only made things worse, and Pippin couldn't bear the wizard's reaction to his secret, whether it be good or bad.

"So, Pippin, what brings you so far from home--" He paused and looked Pippin deep in his eyes. "Without even your cousin Merry to accompany you?"

He looked away and took a sip of ale. Then he took another. He had to tell Gandalf something, but it couldn't be a lie, just not the whole truth. "After all I've been through.... I know I wasn't the most useful member of the Fellowship--" Pippin paused, hoping Gandalf would contradict him. When the wizard just continued to puff on his pipe, Pippin carried on. "I just feel like I've earned the right to decide things for myself, not have my life decided for me. I'm off to Gondor to do just that."

"Gondor? That's a long way for a little Hobbit, all by his lonesome." Gandalf emphasized the word _lonesome_.

"I can manage," Pippin replied unconvincingly. He took a deep breath, taking in the aroma of Gandalf's pipe. Southlinch, if his nose was not mistaken (and it never was when it came to pipe-weed). Pippin had some Old Toby in his pocket along with his pipe, but he doubted it would be proper to light up while he was still in uniform.

The wizard hummed and puffed for a moment or two, then shrugged his shoulders. "It's your life, as you say, but it seems to me you haven't thought this through."

"Oh, I'm thinking and planning even as we speak." _I'm thinking that this was all a horrible mistake and I'm planning to crawl home and beg everyone's forgiveness._ _No, I can't do that_! He couldn't face Merry or his family again. Pippin set his jaw and took a determined swig of ale.

Gandalf shook his head. "_The Pony_ is all right if all you require is a fine pint of ale and a soft bed to sleep in, but it is no place for deciding the course of one's life."

Pippin suddenly decided that King Elessar wouldn't mind him smoking and rummaged in his pocket for his pipe. "What do you suggest?"

"Since you asked, I'm headed for Rivendell in the morning if you'd like to join me. A finer place for sorting things out cannot be found in Middle-earth."

Rivendell! It would be like heaven compared to the past few days, but Pippin tried not to appear too excited. "But I thought all the Elves had gone."

The wizard smiled a little sadly. "Not all. Not yet."

"I suppose I wouldn't mind keeping you company," Pippin said casually.

Gandalf harrumphed. "Just try to hold your tongue while you're doing it."

The next morning, Gandalf and Pippin settled their respective bills, then the wizard sent Pippin along to the stables. When the hobbit was out of sight, Gandalf gave Butterbur a slip of folded parchment. "When Master Meriadoc Brandybuck arrives, please give him this. He should be along shortly."

To be continued....


	3. Merry, Warrior Hobbit

**Chapter Three: Merry, Warrior Hobbit**

**A/N: The herbal remedy mentioned in this chapter is not recommended to be used for any illness or injury. In other words, don't try this at home.**

_Merry,_

_I managed to cut your fool cousin off at the pass, as they say. I convinced him to accompany me to Rivendell to rethink his harebrained scheme to run away to Gondor. Follow and your questions will be answered._

_Gandalf_

Merry let out a tense breath and put his hand on his heart.

Barliman Butterbur looked down at the Hobbit encouragingly. "Good news?"

"The best sort of good news, thank you." Merry stuffed the note in his pocket and rubbed his hands together happily. Now that he knew Pippin was safe he could finally relax and get his first good night's sleep in days. _But first a pint and a smoke._

Merry gave his pack to Nob, Butterbur's Hobbit servant, and entered _The Pony's_ common room. Though he and Pippin enjoyed riding through the Shire dressed as fine warrior Hobbits, Merry decided it was better to take a page from Strider's book when traveling outside friendlier borders. He was dressed as a simple gentlehobbit in a dark green waistcoat, brown jacket and breeches topped with his Elven cloak. He wore his mail shirt over his linen, of course, and made sure his sword, dagger, and Horn of Rohan were hidden under his cloak.

He was halfway through his first pint when he felt unfriendly eyes on him. Merry glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw two ragged Men approaching. He wasn't sure, but he thought he recognized the larger of the two ruffians from the Battle of Bywater.

"Imagine that, Deken," said the smaller man. "Two fancy, large Hobbits passin' through Bree in as many days."

"Tis a wonder, Rima. I guess them's growin' 'em big in the Shire." The larger Man's mocking laughter echoed through the room as the two Men moved to either side of Merry. The Hobbit did not look up and took another sip of ale.

"Look Rima, this one's got hisself a pretty horn." The Man called Deken snatched the Horn of Rohan off Merry's belt and turned it over in his filthy hands. Quick as a flash, Merry grabbed Rima's shirt front, drew his dagger and stuck it in into the Man's gut just far enough to break the skin.

"Put it down and move away," Merry rumbled dangerously, "or I'll disembowel your friend."

Deken hesitated. Rima roared in pain as Merry pushed the blade in a hair further. "Do as he says, blast you!"

Deken threw the horn down and stepped back.

Merry shoved Rima away from him and jumped up out of his chair. He drew his sword and brandished it menacingly. "Leave here now, and don't come back!" The attention of all in the common room was on the strange tableau of the two fell Men cowering before a Hobbit. If Merry had not commanded immediate respect by his bearing and skill, there would have been more than a few snickers at the sight.

Rima held his gut in as if he feared his insides would fall out from the shallow wound. "Let's get out of here, Deken."

With a last evil look at Merry, the two men ran out of the inn.

Merry sheathed his sword, just then noticing the wary stares of the other patrons. He took a last long pull of ale and went in search of Butterbur to change his room from a comfortable, but insecure Hobbit hole to something a little farther off the ground. _So much for relaxation.___

Less than a day's ride from Weathertop, Merry got the distinct impression that he was being followed and had been for some time. He was certain it was Deken and Rima from _The Pony_. The Hobbit suspected it was more because of the humiliation the two Men had suffered, rather than any riches they hoped to steal that caused them to come after him.

They had horses, stolen no doubt, and even though his pony Stybba was bred by the horse masters of Rohan, he could still be outrun. Merry didn't want to make a mad dash for it unless he had no other choice.

Eventually, Merry was forced to stop to relieve the pressure in his bladder and take a quick meal. It was the opportunity the two villains had been waiting for. Merry barely mounted Stybba and drew his short sword before they burst out of the trees.

They had long knives, but they had no training in battle or fighting on horseback, judging by their wild slashes.

Rima aimed for Merry's head, but the Hobbit ducked before he could strike. Merry plunged his sword beneath the Man's ribcage and through his entire body. Rima fell to the ground, dead. Merry just managed to parry an attack by Deken.

"You killed my best mate!" The Man screamed, barring his rotten teeth. "You're next, you ugly little rat!"

"You're calling _me_ ugly?" Merry backed Stybba up then charged forward, stabbing Deken in the shoulder. Deken used the opportunity to slash Merry's left thigh. With a resounding battle cry, Merry pushed the Man off his horse with his uninjured leg. Now free from his abductor, the horse ran towards Bree.

Merry galloped east, the sound of Stybba's hooves pounding the earth and drowning out Deken's vile curses. The Hobbit continued riding for an hour to put as much distance between him and the Man as possible. Finally, he stopped by a stream to tend to the wound on his leg. It wasn't deep, but it was long and jagged. He cleaned it with clear cool water that stung and soothed at the same time. He then ripped the hem off of his extra linen shirt and bound the wound. After that Merry traveled off the road the rest of the way to Rivendell.

Three days after the skirmish, Merry awoke at dawn, drenched in sweat. His left leg was stiff and his thigh wound felt like it was on fire. He gingerly removed his makeshift bandage and his nostrils were assailed by the unmistakable odor of infection. The cut was red and angry, with pus beginning to ooze out of it. "I'm going to kill Pippin when I see him."

He started a small fire and boiled some water. By then the sun had risen. Merry stumbled to his feet and limped in search of some herbs he had seen his mother use to treat wounds. He managed to find boneset on the stream bank and ripped up a handful of the long itchy plants, careful to include its medicinal roots. Ruddes proved much harder to find, but he finally spotted a bunch of its golden orange flowers. He cut up the plants and ground them as finely as he could. He wrapped the crushed herbs in a piece of his shirt, dipped it into the boiling water, and applied it to the wound. If any Hobbit wife had been there to hear the word Merry cried out, she would have surely washed his mouth out with soap. When it cooled, Merry covered the poultice with a clean bandage and secured it tightly. He saved some of the leaves, roots, and flowers for later and made the rest into a tea.

Merry grimly considered his options while he ate a late breakfast. There was no one around for many miles and he certainly could not wait here for his wound to heal--or not. He had to ride for Rivendell as swiftly as possible; but even then it was three day's ride. Somehow, he managed to climb into his pony's saddle and gallop away. Ever jolt magnified the agony in his thigh until his whole leg settled into a burning numbness.

By the next morning, the wound was festering badly and Merry knew the infection had seeped into his blood. Burning with fever, his mind was becoming increasingly foggy and confused. Fortunately, Stybba seemed to know which way to go. If it wasn't for the loyal hill-pony, a gift from King Théoden, Merry would have been hopelessly lost.

A day and a half from Rivendell, Merry was so weak with fever and pain that he fell off his pony into a field of heather. All Stybba could do was nuzzle the Hobbit and whinny. Merry felt his pony's nose nudging his side. He reached to pat the beast's muzzle, but his hand fell on the Horn of Rohan instead. He lifted his head with a sudden burst of energy and put the horn to his lips. Even though the sound reverberated throughout his entire body, Merry wasn't certain he'd made any sound at all.

Completely spent, Merry lay in the heather, dying of thirst, but too weak to retrieve his water bottle. His lips were dry and cracked, he didn't have enough spit to swallow, but he did manage to shed a few tears. "Pippin, why did you leave me?"

"No one has left you, Merry."

Merry looked up and for a shining second he saw his young cousin smiling down on him. "Pippin?"

"I will look after you now." Pippin leaned down to pick him up. The illusion dissolved and was replaced by the reality of a tall, dark-haired Elf taking the Hobbit in his arms. Merry smiled gratefully and closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to sink into painless oblivion.

Pippin had been in Rivendell for only two days and he was already bored to tears. Most of the Elves had left for the Grey Havens and there was only so much smoking even he could do with Bilbo and Gandalf. He began to take long, lonely walks along the terrace path as far as the stone bridge. He supposed it was about time for him to continue on to Gondor, but the thought of that treacherous journey was worse even than the boredom.

He was skipping stones in the River Bruinen and thinking that perhaps he should return to the Shire after all, when a rider approached at breakneck speed. Pippin quickly jumped out of the way to let the rider through. It was one of the twin sons of Lord Elrond and he was holding a largish bundle before him. At the sight of a furry hobbit foot peeking out from under a familiar Elvish cloak, Pippin realized the bundle was Merry.

 "_MERRY_!"

The Elf rushed passed him and Pippin ran to catch up. Lord Elrond met Elrohir at the entrance to the hall and the two Elves spoke quickly in their own tongue. Elrond directed his son to take Merry to a sick room, where Elrohir laid Merry gently on the bed. Pippin tried to jump up as well, but the bed was too high for that, so he just stood by Merry's head. The older Hobbit was delirious and it took a few moments for him to focus on his cousin. "Pippin?"

Pippin stroked his damp curls and started to snuffle. "I'm so sorry, Merry."

Sudden anger flashed in Merry's eyes. He took a handful of Pippin's shirt in his fist. "Why did you leave me, Pippin?"

Pippin shook his head and burst into tears when he glanced at Merry's leg and finally saw the terrible wound on his thigh that was making him so ill.

Tears sprang to Merry's blue eyes as well. "I don't understand. You told Rosie why you left, but you won't tell me?"

"I never thought you'd come after me," Pippin said between choking sobs.

Merry's grip on Pippin's shirt tightened. "That's your problem, Pippin. You never think!"

Elrond gently but firmly separated the two Hobbits and ushered Pippin out the door. "Now is not the time for arguments, Master Meriadoc. We must heal your hurts first."

Pippin stumbled to his room and cried through luncheon and afternoon tea. This was worse than dropping the stone into the well in the Mines of Moria; worse still than looking in the palantír and having his mind attacked by the Enemy. He had almost killed his beloved Merry by his reckless actions.

When he had no more tears left, Pippin washed his face and then went to sit with Bilbo and Gandalf. He looked out over the balcony, but did not allow himself to enjoy the exquisite view. "How could one Hobbit cause so much damage in so short a time?" It was a rhetorical question, but he half expected a response. He wasn't disappointed.

"Because, Pippin," said Bilbo, "the choices you make not only affect you, but everyone who loves you."

"And keeping secrets that should not be kept takes its own toll," added the wizard.

Pippin turned on Gandalf uneasily. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Stuff and nonsense!" Gandalf snorted. "Your mysterious reason for leaving the Shire is apparent to anyone paying the slightest bit of attention."

Bilbo nodded apologetically. "I'm afraid so, my boy."

Gandalf inhaled some pipe smoke and then blew a smoke-ring in the shape of a heart. Not to be outdone, Bilbo blew his own ring in the form of an arrow piercing Gandalf's smoke-heart. "So Peregrin Took, are you going to tell your cousin why he was forced to leave the comfort of his Hobbit-hole to come chasing after you?"

Pippin just stared at Bilbo and Gandalf in horror. _How could they know_?

"Well," said Bilbo as he continued to puff away, "when are you going to tell Merry that you're in love with him?"

The old Hobbit's blunt statement was like a slap across Pippin's face. "W-who told you?"

"You did," said Gandalf, "by your irrational behavior of late. Or should I say, more irrational than usual. Besides, I had suspected as much for a while."

"You're not shocked." It was a statement of surprise, not a question.

Gandalf laughed gently. "I have seen much through the ages and I have found that when it comes to love, gender matters little."

"Neither of you thinks badly of me then?"

Bilbo tut-tutted and patted him on the arm. "Of course not. There is too little love in this world to rebuff it when it blossoms."

"Do you know if Merry loves me?" Pippin asked hopefully.

The wizard shrugged. "You know he loves you dearly, but I have no idea if he cares for you in the same way you care for him. You'll just have to ask him and find out."

Pippin shook his head vigorously. "I couldn't. What if he doesn't feel the same way and he hates me for the way I feel? I think it will be better for me to just leave for Gondor as I had planned."

"I doubt he could ever hate you," Bilbo said, "but he will resent you if you don't tell him why you're leaving. Don't you think you owe him at least that?"

The next morning, Pippin opened the door to Merry's room and poked his head in. "How are you feeling?"

Merry glared at him crossly, but his anger melted into a tired sigh. "Come in, Pippin." His young cousin crept gingerly toward him until Merry gestured impatiently for him to sit in the chair beside his bed. "No worries, Pip. I'll be fine. Master Elrond says there's no permanent damage."

"Oh, I am glad," Pippin replied with relief. "Elrohir told us you were attacked by two Men."

"Bree-Men. They gave me a bit of trouble at _The Pony_, then they followed me. I killed one of them and wounded the other."

Pippin's face fell. "Good for you."

"What's wrong?"

"I think I saw them at _The Pony_ right before Gandalf came to my rescue." The guilt in Pippin's voice was palpable.

Merry nodded. "They did mention seeing another large, 'fancy' hobbit."

"Oh, Merry," Pippin cried. "I wish Gandalf had come for you instead and I'd been left to face those Men."

Merry took Pippin's hand. "Don't say that. I don't really blame you. You didn't intend for it to happen."

Pippin pulled his hand away as if he was undeserving of Merry's comfort. "I never intend anything to happen, but it always does!"

Merry ruffled his curls affectionately. "You are a bit of a calamity waiting to happen, but that's part of your charm."

Pippin wiped his eyes and grinned sheepishly.

"I'll forgive you if you tell me why you caused all this fuss." Merry took his hand again and held it firmly.

Pippin swallowed hard and nodded. "Quite right. You deserve to know."

"Well?"

"Well, I, ah...you see, I didn't intend for it to happen, but, you know...."

"Just say it for pity's sake!"

"I'm in love!" Pippin blurted out.

Merry rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Is that all? Who is she then?"

Pippin looked away. "Someone beyond my reach."

"Is it an Elf-maid or a Woman?" Merry asked.

"No," Pippin replied coyly, "it's a Hobbit."

Merry scratched his chin and thought hard about who it could be. There was really no Hobbit lass that was beyond Pippin's reach. He would be The Thain one day and inherit a fortune. Perhaps it was someone who was unavailable. Perhaps it was a Hobbit-wife! "It's Rosie Gamgee isn't it? How could you do that to poor Sam? Oh Pippin, I'm so disappointed in you!"

It was Pippin's turn to roll his eyes. "Don't be stupid, Merry. It's not Rosie."

The only other lass that came to mind made Merry's blood boil. "Not Estella? Because she's my girl, and besides she's too old for you."

"It isn't Estella or any other lass, you great fool!" Pippin exploded. "It's you!"

Merry released Pippin's hand, feeling as if his head was suddenly being stuffed with lamb's wool. Whatever was actually happening inside his skull prevented him from processing what Pippin had just said "What?"

"I'm in love with you, Merry."

Merry laughed nervously. "You're joking, right?"

Pippin's face went ashen, then he forced a mad giggle. "Of course, I am!" His lower lip started to quiver and tears welled up in his eyes. "Good one, eh?"

Merry's mind continued to reel. It all made sense now, at least in a Pippin-logic sort of way. "I don't know what to say." All amusement was gone from Merry's face. He shook his head, feeling his own heart break at the sight of his cousin's devastated expression. "I'm so sorry, Pippin...."

Pippin sprang up, almost knocking the chair over, and ran out of the room.

To be continued....


	4. Kiss Interrupted

**Chapter Four: Kiss Interrupted**

**A/N: I think I was channeling Quentin Tarantino while I was writing the end of this chapter, so be warned.**

Three days after Pippin's startling declaration, Merry was well enough to leave his sick room and sit with Gandalf and Bilbo, but he took no interest in their conversation. Pippin had not come to see him since he had told Merry he was in love with him, but Merry had been informed by every Elf in Rivendell that Pippin had asked about his progress so incessantly, even the patient First Born were exasperated with him.

Merry looked out over the balcony and watched Pippin sitting outside on the terrace overlooking the River Bruinen. Pippin just stared out into the water, occasionally banging his head against the wooden railing.

In the past, whenever Pippin was low, Merry had always been able to coax a smile out of him and raise his spirits. Now he was the cause of Pippin's pain, though he couldn't remember having done anything to lead him on. _Why did he have to say that_? Merry tried to be angry with him, but how could he blame Pippin for how he felt? Falling in love wasn't something Hobbits, Elves, or Men had much control over. Merry marveled a little at his understanding attitude. If any other hobbit lad had said such a thing, Merry would have likely pummeled him until the lad in question knew better than to say it ever again.

But this was Pippin. He was dearer to Merry than anyone else in the world. Sure, he was very fond of Estella Bolger; she was a first-rate lass, after all, but no one could replace Pippin. They had been through so much together. Bonds like that went deeper than love or friendship. Soul bonds, he had heard Aragorn call them. He had every sort of affection for his young cousin, except the sorts of feelings Pippin apparently had for him.

Merry left the balcony and sat down, putting up his still-sore leg on a soft cushion. He opened a book of Elvish history, then immediately put it down again. He couldn't even feign interest. Gandalf gave Merry a sympathetic look, but didn't impart any words of wisdom. He had to work this out for himself.

Pippin couldn't remember eating that day, but he hardly noticed the growling in his stomach. He was hanging his feet through the bottom of the terrace railing, hoping some fell creature would rise from the depths of the river and drag him under, when he heard the sound of irregular footsteps approaching. He turned to see Merry carrying a basket in his hand and limping. "Merry, you shouldn't be up walking so soon." Pippin rose and hurried to Merry, taking the basket and settling Merry on a bench.

"Lord Elrond said I should," Merry replied with authority.

"Well, I'm certain he wouldn't approve of you carrying a heavy basket full of--" Pippin took a deep breath in through his nose. "Is that mushroom pie?"

"Your favorite," Merry said, smiling encouragingly.

"I am feeling a bit peckish." Pippin hesitated, then quickly laid out the contents of the basket on the fine linen cloth he spread over the bench.

"Of course you are. Bilbo tells me you've hardly eaten in days." Besides the mushroom pie, there was fruit, cheese, Elven bread, and wine. Merry filled a goblet and offered it to Pippin. "This will help whet up your appetite, if anything will."

Pippin accepted the goblet and drained it. He savored the warmth that immediately filled him, dulling the pain in his heart.

Merry put a restraining hand on Pippin's. "Not so fast on an empty stomach."

Pippin nodded as he felt his head swimming from the wine and reached for a piece of bread.

"Well," Merry began brightly as he fixed two plates, "I thought we might stay here for another few days, and then head back home."

Pippin filled his goblet again, but sipped it this time. "I'm not going back to the Shire, not after--what I said."

Merry tried to laugh it off, waving his hand as if that were enough to make it go away. "It's forgotten. We'll go back home and everything will be just as it was."

Pippin shook his head. He finally brought himself to look at Merry directly and knew that his beloved cousin didn't believe that was possible either. "I can't un-say what I said. I don't think I want to now that I've said it. It's a relief, really, after all this time."

Merry drained his own goblet and traced his finger around the rim. "How long--?"

"Ten years, give or take."

"_Ten years_?!" Merry sounded flabbergasted and perhaps even a little flattered that someone--anyone--could pine for him for so long.

"Do you see why I can't go back? I can't bear the thought of you marrying someone, having a family--" Now that he heard the words, Pippin was ashamed. "Dreadfully selfish of me, isn't it? I should want you to be happy above all else."

Merry put his hand on Pippin's shoulder, causing the younger Hobbit to stiffen. Merry withdrew sadly. "I want you to be happy too. Do you really think you would find happiness in Gondor?"

"No," he replied quietly. _Not without you, Merry_.

"Then it's settled. We'll leave for the Shire as soon as Elrond says I can travel." Merry put a plate overflowing with food in front of Pippin. "Now, you've got to eat so you'll have plenty of strength for the journey."

"But I've spoilt everything," Pippin protested. "I had a tremendous row with my father--"

"Don't worry about it now. We'll manage that when we get back." Merry handed Pippin a heaping spoonful of mushroom pie. "Right now you've got to eat."

Pippin took the spoon and began to eat mechanically, but now even Merry's mushroom pie tasted like ashes in his mouth.

Merry took leave of his cousin, hoping he would eat more if Merry wasn't there to watch him. On his way back up to the Hall, he encountered Lord Elrond. "How is your kinsman?"

Merry glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. "I'm afraid he's heartbroken." He looked up at the usually stern elf and saw welcome compassion in his eyes. "The worst thing is that I'm the cause of it."

Elrond inclined his head in understanding. "He will heal in time."

Merry forced a small smile, oddly glad that everyone here seemed to know what the trouble was between him and Pippin. It was nice not having to explain one's problem over and over again, particularly when it was so painful. "I wish there was something for it."

"I'm afraid even the Elves do not possess a charm to heal a broken heart."

Suddenly a solution, albeit a drastic one, occurred to Merry. "But you do have other kinds of charms? Like...love charms, for instance?"

The Elf Lord nodded gravely. "I could cast a charm so powerful that you would be instantly besotted with young Peregrin for the rest of your days." Elrond put an elegant hand on Merry's shoulder. "I doubt your cousin would want to win your heart that way, if he truly loves you."

"He does, I'm sure of it." That acknowledgement caused Merry's heart to contract, as if in sympathy to the pain Pippin must be feeling. "I love him too. I feel as if it's my duty to make him happy."

"You cannot fall in love with someone out of a sense of duty."

Merry turned and gazed at Pippin still sitting by the river. "I know. I just wish there was something for it."

Four days later, Merry and Pippin gave their thanks and said their goodbyes to Lord Elrond, Gandalf, and Bilbo. Merry promised to visit again soon, anxious to take Elrond up on his offer to let Merry use Rivendell's extensive library anytime he wished (he had several book projects he wanted to do research for).

Pippin was polite, but distant; doing his best to avoid gazing directly at anybody and taking an inordinate amount of time checking the tack on his pony. Merry sighed. Gandalf patted him on the shoulder and bent down to whisper in his ear.

"Sometimes, Meriadoc, when one has struggled with a problem, but no clear answers are forthcoming, it's helpful to try and look at the problem from another angle." Merry followed Gandalf's gaze to Pippin. "Try to see things in a different light."

Merry knew Gandalf was getting at something, but he wasn't quite sure what that was. He nodded politely, hoping that the wizard's point would dawn on him during their trip west.

The road was quite wide enough for two ponies to ride side by side, but Pippin did his best to either remain in front or in back of Merry for five whole days.

The atmosphere at camp wasn't much cheerier. They ate their meals in unbearable silence and Pippin would plead fatigue if Merry tried to engage him in a song or story. On the morning of the sixth day while they ate another quiet breakfast, Merry closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to prevent himself from screaming out of frustration. _What can I do to fix this_? Gandalf's vague words came back to him unbidden. _Look at the problem from another angle. Try to see things in a different light._

Merry looked at his cousin, who was turned away from him--another of Pippin's new habits. Merry studied his profile and discovered something rather surprising: Pippin was fair. As fair as any Elf Merry had ever seen; fairer still when he was smiling. He missed Pippin's smile most of all.

Pippin turned and fixed his large green eyes on his cousin. "What is it, Merry?"

Merry lowered his gaze, his heart thumping hard in his chest. "W-we should move on. We need to reach Weathertop by nightfall."

Pippin nodded curtly and shouldered his pack.

They arrived at Weathertop after dark and set up camp at the western foot of the great hill. Once again they supped in silence. It was much colder than it had been in Rivendell, but Pippin insisted on sleeping a Man's length away from Merry. It would have been the most natural thing in the world for the two Hobbits to huddle together for warmth and comfort, but Pippin seemed afraid to even go near him. A horrible thought suddenly occurred to Merry. Perhaps Pippin hated him. _Well, that just won't do at all_! Merry rose and bundled his blankets around him; within seconds the harsh wind chilled him to the bone.

Merry scurried across the camp and laid down close beside Pippin, pulling his blankets over them both. Pippin awoke and turned on Merry. "What are you doing?"

"I'm freezing and so are you. I could see you shivering under your covers." Pippin tried to pull away, but Merry swung his feet over Pippin's legs so he couldn't move.

"Get off, Merry!"

"You can hate me if you like, but I'm not going to freeze to death for not feeling the way you want me to." Merry removed his feet, hoping that Pippin wouldn't bolt to the other side of the campsite. Pippin looked as if he was about to cry again. Merry resisted the temptation to ruffle his hair.

"I don't hate you," Pippin told him. "I could never--"

"Then why are you acting like this?" Merry asked more gently.

"Don't you understand?" Pippin said with anguish in his voice. "Now that I know there's no hope...your touch is like torture to me."

"Oh." Merry began to pull away.

Pippin stopped him. "It's all right," he mumbled, then pulled the covers over his head.

Pippin's body did help to keep the cold at bay, but Merry's proximity kept Pippin awake for most of the night. Exhaustion finally took the younger Hobbit just before dawn.

"Good Morning, Pippin! Time for second breakfast." Merry smiled down at him as Pippin rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The sun was well up in the sky. It seemed he did indeed miss first breakfast.

Pippin threw the blankets aside and yawned. "Sorry I slept so late."

"I know you didn't sleep very well, so you can have first and second breakfast at the same time if you like." Merry grinned cheerfully, hoping his mood would rub off on Pippin. He sliced up half a potato and threw it in the frying pan, tucking his eating knife in the sheath sticking out of the waistband of his breeches. He handed Pippin a plate filled with cheese, Elven bread, and strips of dried pork.

Pippin's melancholy seemed to lighten at Merry's efforts and he accepted the food gratefully. "I'm sorry I've been so difficult lately."

Merry was about to say, 'It's forgotten,' but gave his cousin an understanding smile instead. Pippin had been right when he said that things would never be quite the same between them, but that didn't mean Merry wouldn't do all he could to make things right. But first he needed a little information.

He waited until Pippin was quite full and content before he asked his question. "So," Merry began casually, "What exactly do lads do--together?"

Pippin sighed heavily and scrambled to his feet. He started clearing off the pans and wooden dishes and shoved them none too gently in his pack. "You said before that you wanted to forget what I said. Let's please forget it and never speak of it again."

"I didn't mean to upset you," Merry said. "It's just that I hate to see you this way."

Pippin turned on him angrily. "I can bear the fact that you don't feel the same way about me, but I cannot bear your pity."

Merry went to him and took him by the shoulders. Pippin did not pull away, but wouldn't look at Merry either. "It's not pity. I love you, you silly fool! Why do you think I'm here? Why do you think I'm even asking the question?"

"And you would go against your nature to make me happy?" Pippin asked it in such a way that said he already knew the answer.

Merry threw up his hands. "I don't know! I just don't want to lose you."

Pippin shook his head, abashed. "You haven't lost me, Merry."

"Haven't I? You're so distant, pushing me away at every turn." Merry sat cross-legged by the small fire and motioned Pippin to do the same. "So tell me. What do lads do with each other?" Pippin tried to escape from Merry again, but Merry grabbed his arm and sat him back down. "Maybe it's something I wouldn't mind doing for you. It isn't pity, Pippin. I just want you to be happy to be with me again."

Pippin sighed in defeat then gazed at him sheepishly. "To be honest, I have no experience in the matter, though I did hear a few things from some Gondorian soldiers. I have to warn you, it is a rather rude story."

"I'll be sure to cover my ears at the bad words," Merry said with a grin. "Go on."

Pippin blushed furiously. "I was in the mess hall with Beregond. One of the soldiers, a big, smelly brute of a Man said, 'I hear them Orcs sometimes does take prisoners. Remember Alaric?' The other soldiers nodded gravely and several took long draughts of ale as if to steady themselves. Of course, my ears pricked up when they spoke of Orc prisoners, having been one myself. 'What happened to Alaric?' I asked.

"Beregond shook his head, no doubt trying to protect me from hearing the story, but the gesture went unheeded. The Brute said, 'The demons beat him nearly to death and then they took him like a lass. Ripped his insides they did. He couldn't--" Pippin paused and leaned towards Merry to whisper. "_shit--_ for a month.' 'I don't understand', I said."

"Of course you did, Pip," Merry said, horrified at the story. "You never did know when to leave well enough alone." How could Pippin want him to do that? Or maybe it was Pippin who wanted to do it to him.

"Just let me finish. Another soldier, by the name of Bran, explained, 'He took him up his back passage, if you take my meaning, but he didn't grease him up before he did it.' 'What's the grease for?' I asked. Bran replied with a terrible leer, 'So's his _cock_ (another whisper) goes in nice and easy.'

"'That's enough in front of the little one.' Beregond said with no little authority. I replied with as much dignity as the situation allowed, 'I am not a child.' 'No, he ain't,' said the Brute. 'He wouldn't be in the service of the Steward, nowise.' I smiled at that, but then the Brute turned his drunken stare on me. 'Tell us, Halfling. Are all your kind so fair as you?'"

"You are fair, Pippin," Merry interrupted. "Uncommonly so. It's no wonder they called you _Ernil_ _i Pheriannath,_ Prince of the Halflings."

Pippin burst out laughing. Such a name might have been fitting a thousand years ago when The Thain ruled the Shire, but now it just sounded silly, particularly coming from Merry. "You're shoveling it on a bit thick, aren't you?"

"Sorry."

"As I was saying, I felt my ire rising faster than my fear.'My name is Peregrin son of Paladin.' The Brute laughed heartily. 'Well, then Peregrin son of Paladin, how'd you like to see the business end of a proper man-_cock_?' 'Only long enough to cut it off.'" Pippin smiled with shy pride. "The soldiers, even the Brute, laughed heartily and left me alone after that."

"Well, Pip," Merry said awkwardly. "I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself like that, but what the Orc did to poor Alaric--how could you want to do that with me? It sounds beyond dreadful."

Merry could tell by his expression that Pippin suddenly realized how inappropriate his anecdote was. "I know it sounds odd, but later on that day I found myself thinking of what could have happened to us when we were held prisoner by the Orcs, and it was truly horrible, but then I thought about you and me in a soft bed, all gentle and sweet, with lots of grease and just for a moment I imagined it could be wonderful." Pippin lowered his head. "Stupid me, I should have left the other part out, now you'll never--not that you would anyway."

Merry tried to imagine them together as he had imagined being with a lass a hundred times. It wasn't unpleasant exactly, just strange; a little too strange for him to comprehend right now. "I wonder if lads do other things that lads and lasses do, like...kissing."

Pippin's breath caught in his throat. "Don't, Merry. For pity's sake, let's drop the subject." Pippin started collecting his things and shoved them into his pack, but Merry wouldn't give him peace.

"You're not giving me a chance," Merry said as he turned Pippin to face him. "Just one little kiss. It's not just for you--I need to know as well."

Merry inched closer, his hands clutching Pippin's arms. Pippin stiffened visibly and shut his eyes and lips tightly, unwilling to take any pleasure from the experience. "Relax, Pippin. Give me a chance." When Pippin refused, Merry lightly tickled him just below the ribs. It was enough to cause Pippin to open his eyes and giggle.

Merry took the opportunity to press his lips to Pippin's. Merry paid close attention to the feelings passing through his mind and body, but Pippin withdrew before he could make much sense of it. It certainly didn't feel disagreeable, but he remembered kissing his ancient Aunt Euphemia more passionately than this.

"Nothing, right?" Pippin said as a sort of challenge.

"How can I tell?" countered Merry. "You're not even making an effort."

"You want me to make an effort?" Pippin asked, his breath quickening. "All right then." Quite suddenly, Pippin slipped his hand on the back of Merry's head and covered Merry's mouth with his own. Merry gasped in surprised, allowing Pippin to snake his tongue into his mouth with surprising expertise. Merry responded with a moan and entwined his tongue with his young cousin's, as they embraced each other tightly.

With every thrust of Pippin's tongue, Merry felt powerful, pleasure-pains shooting from his groin, through his stomach and into his heart, making him lightheaded. Pippin withdrew, their lips just a hair apart. An aching longing threatened to overwhelm Merry, but then he felt Pippin's soft lips and teasing tongue trail along his jaw, and up to the sensitive skin just behind his ear. "_Please, Merry_."

Pippin's plaintive whisper journeyed straight to the depths of Merry's soul. The soul-bond they had always shared felt comfortable and safe, but this new intrusion was unnerving and filled him with dread. Merry realized that, if he chose to wield it, Pippin had the power of life and death, bliss and despair over him. Pippin could destroy him utterly or ask him to do anything he wished and Merry would be powerless to refuse.

The sound of a hundred Brandybuck voices reverberating through the walls of Brandy Hall warned him that if he gave into Pippin he would lose himself. Merry pushed Pippin away almost cruelly. But Pippin was still there, inside of his soul even though they were no longer touching. It terrified him. "That's enough, Pippin!"

Instantly, the connection was ended and the polite distance in Pippin's eyes returned. But more than that, Merry felt an aching void in his heart. He realized that when he had ordered Pippin away from him, he had lost something more precious than all the Rings in Middle-earth--the part of Pippin's soul that belonged to Merry alone; that always had since the day his young cousin was born.

"Don't stop now, Halflings. It was jus' gettin' interesting."

Both Hobbits spun around. It was the Man, Deken. He was holding his left arm close to his body because of the wound Merry had dealt him, but he looked as dangerous as ever wielding a large serrated knife.

And their short swords still lay on the ground next to their packs. Merry made a move to dive for his weapon, but Deken put his boot on the hilt. "Not this time, rat. And I don't suggest you run either, or one of you will feel this in your back." He grinned evilly. "Something tells me neither of you wants to lose the other."

Pippin lowered his head in shame as if it was his fault that their attachment to each other was betrayed.

"I'm going to gut you like a piglet," Deken said to Merry, licking his filthy lips. "But first I think I'll have some fun with your little whore."

Merry was incensed almost beyond words that _anyone_, even the likes of Deken, would dare call Pippin such a thing, but still his stomach trembled possessively. He instinctively pushed Pippin behind him. "You'll not lay a hand on him!"

Merry felt Pippin slowly pull the eating knife out of its sheath in his waistband, all the while whimpering convincingly.

"Oi, Merry! Whatever shall we do?" Pippin wailed, dashing out from behind his cousin. "Don't hurt him, sir. I'll do anything you want!"

"Pippin, no!" Merry's panic was not at all feigned. He knew Pippin had a plan, but that was hardly a comfort to him. And for one insane moment, Merry thought now that he had rejected him so completely, Pippin was prepared to give himself to Deken!

Deken laughed. "How could I refuse such a delicious offer? Come here, little one," he coaxed Pippin in a sing-song voice. "I always liked Halfling sluts, most being waist high and all, but I never had a bundle as fine as you."

Merry assumed that Pippin had palmed the knife and hidden it in his sleeve. Pippin stepped forward slowly and halted in front of Deken. He looked up at the Man in that haunting way he had; wide green eyes all innocence and charm, almost challenging the recipient of his gaze to protect him. Merry strangely hoped it was lost on Deken.

"If I please you," Pippin breathed, "will you let him go unharmed?"

Deken lowered his blade and stopped unlacing his breeches so he could stroke Pippin's smooth face. "Of course, my little beauty."

Pippin's eyelids fluttered and he pressed his cheek into the Man's touch. "Liar." Pippin had said it so quietly that Deken didn't realize the Hobbit had spoken until he felt the blade shoved viciously up into his privates. "That's for what you did to Merry!"

Deken fell to his knees, clutching his crotch. His mouth flew opened in a scream that came out as a strangled gurgle. The Man finally found his voice and let out a shriek that could have been heard in Rohan.

Merry ran for his sword and plunged it into Deken's chest, silencing him forever.

Pippin stood staring at the dead man, shaking violently. "It wasn't nearly as satisfying as I had hoped." He began to gag. "Excuse me, Merry. I have to throw up second breakfast." Pippin retched behind a tree for a quarter of an hour while Merry held his head, crooning softly in his ear, but the comfort Merry offered wasn't enough to regain that which he had lost. As soon as Pippin recovered, they quickly gathered their belongings.

Pippin pointed uneasily over his shoulder at the dead man. "I suppose we should get your knife."

Merry glanced at Deken, his lifeless eyes wide, still holding his bloody crotch and shuddered "That's all right, I'll get another one."

To be continued....


	5. Lost and Found

**Chapter Five: Lost and Found**

**A/N: Many thanks to my wonderful beta!**

Merry and Pippin rode along briskly until well past noon, both Hobbits trying to wipe the image of the dead Man from their minds. They finally stopped to rest and take a quick meal; Pippin ate only a few bites as he was still feeling queasy.

"Merry," Pippin began. "About what happened earlier--"

"You did wonderfully, Pippin, I'm proud of you." Merry was sincere in his praise, but almost asked Pippin why he had allowed Deken to touch him. Unfamiliar jealousy filled the void in Merry's heart. "I'm glad you don't have the stomach for killing, but he deserved it for calling you what he did." _And for touching you._

"That's not what I meant." Pippin paused and looked away shyly. "About the kiss..."

"Let's just forget it, all right," Merry said sharply, rising to his feet. "It was a stupid idea anyway."

"_Your_ idea," Pippin reminded him. "Tell me Merry, did you push me away because you were enjoying it more than you thought you would?"

Merry opened his mouth to voice a vehement denial, but stopped himself. "It doesn't mean anything. I know you've kissed lasses and enjoyed it, but it never went any further than that. Kissing feels good. Most of the time, it hardly matters who's kissing who." Merry didn't believe his explanation any more than Pippin did. He felt hollow and lost inside and couldn't understand what possessed him to make matters even worse.

Pippin picked up a small stone and threw it into the trees in obvious frustration. "Then why use it as some sort of test to see how you feel about being with me?"

"You've got to get over this, Pippin," Merry said, purposely avoiding the question. "It really will destroy our friendship if you don't."

Pippin blinked away a few desolate tears and stood unsteadily. "If that's what you want, Merry," he said numbly, "it's forgotten--once and for all."

Merry could almost see Pippin drifting away from him even though they were standing just a few feet from each other. He heard himself screaming inside his head: 'Take him in your arms, you idiot! Tell him how much you love him and how much you need him! _I need you, Pippin!_' All Merry managed to say out loud was, "Good." He gave his cousin a masculine slap on the back that caused Pippin to stumble forward a few steps. Merry mounted his pony and gestured with a nod of his head for Pippin to do the same.

Pippin rode next to Merry and did a remarkable job of pretending that his heart had not just been torn to pieces by the Hobbit who supposedly loved him best. Pippin even made up a song before they arrived in Bree:

_Farmer Hobbit was shearin' his sheep_

_The warm sun a'warmin' and he fell asleep_

_He kept on shearin' and he cut too deep_

_Now Hobbit's got no fur on his feet...._

"That's horrible," Merry laughed.

"Does that mean you don't want to hear the other twelve verses?" Pippin's broad grin didn't carry to his eyes and he spared Merry the rest of the song.

Merry felt tears stinging his own eyes. He wiped his nose vigorously on his sleeve to cover it up.

They arrived in Bree and took a room on the upper floor because, according to Merry, "The beds are enormous. You can really stretch your legs out." Pippin smiled agreeably, but seemed indifferent to everything including their accommodations.

The Big Folk paid them little mind and the Bree-hobbits gazed at them with more than a little awe, some whispering about Merry's earlier skirmish with the now-dead ruffians.

Merry and Pippin sat in the common-room, enjoying several pipes of Old Toby and a pint each of _The Pony's_ best. They talked about the weather, the ale, the pipe-weed, the possibility of purchasing larger beds for Crickhollow, and the upcoming harvest. Their talk was cheerful, but superficial, lacking the cozy familiarity they normally felt in each other's presence.

When the strain of acting like everything was back to normal got too much for Pippin, he rose from his chair. "We should turn in if we're going to get an early start tomorrow morning."

Merry forced a smile. "I'll follow you up in a tick." As soon as Pippin was out of sight, Merry lowered his head and banged it on the table.

"Something wrong, Master Brandybuck?"

Merry looked up into the kind, ruddy face of Butterbur. "Just everything, that's all."

Butterbur nodded sympathetically. "I guess you'll be needing another pint then?"

"Please." Merry felt a few tears roll down his cheek and he wiped them away roughly. Barliman patted him on the shoulder on his way to the bar and brought back a brimming tankard a moment later.

So many things had changed for the worse since the last time Merry had sat here. When he left the Shire to find Pippin and bring him home, he could not have predicted the absolute destruction of everything good between them. Merry tried to convince himself that it was Pippin's feelings for him that were to blame, but secretly Merry knew it was his own deceit that had so completely eroded their friendship.

Merry finally admitted to himself that he had enjoyed Pippin's kiss more than he could remember enjoying anything, but terror gripped him again. To acknowledge such a shocking thing and to take Pippin for his own would likely change the course of his life. And poor Estella! Merry had practically proposed to her, but how could he marry her in good conscience now that he knew his heart belonged to Pippin?

Merry was beset with grief for the sudden passing of his old life and the ache of longing for the one he truly loved. He pushed away the untouched pint and ran up the stairs to their room, lest he start bawling in front of the Breelanders. He lit a candle and undressed to his linen shirt and breeches. Merry watched the rise and fall of Pippin's chest as he slept, wondering where his precious part of Pippin's soul was hiding. A little choked sob escaped his throat.

That tiny noise somehow rose above the sounds of clinking tankards, raucous laughter, and bawdy tunes to wake Pippin. "Merry? What's the matter?"

At the worry in Pippin's eyes, the first real emotion he had seen in them for days, Merry broke down in tears. "I miss you."

All of their arguments instantly forgotten, Pippin threw the covers aside and reached for him. Merry practically jumped onto the large bed and fell into Pippin's warm embrace. Merry rested his head on Pippin's shoulder, while Pippin stroked his yellow curls tenderly. "I'm right here, Merry."

"No, you're not," Merry cried. "Not in here." He poked his chest.

Pippin gazed at Merry in alarm. "What do you mean?"

Merry rubbed the tears out of his eyes and sat across from Pippin, grasping his young cousin's hands. "When you were born and Aunt Eglantine let me hold you, I remember looking into your eyes. They were a sort of dark blue, like the night sky, not green like they are now. My mother told me that all babies have midnight blue eyes as a reminder that they're a gift from Elbereth Herself; stars that She let fall so that they could live on Middle-earth."

"You haven't told me that story for ages," Pippin said, poignant tears welling in his eyes. "I thought you'd forgotten."

Merry touched his cheek. "I could never forget that as long as I live. What I didn't tell you was at that moment while I was looking in your eyes, I felt this essence enter me. It was a little part of your soul, like a birthday gift from you to me. I didn't tell you about it because I didn't think I had to."

Pippin smiled. "No, but I would have liked to have heard the story anyway. But I still don't understand what happened."

"I can't feel you anymore." Merry began to weep anew. "It happened when I pushed you away. I became so aware of you inside of me it frightened me and then you were gone. Am I--?"

"Of course." Pippin placed Merry's hand on his heart. "You're always there. I'd never let you go no matter what came between us."

"I lied to you." Merry spread his hand over Pippin's chest as if to will his part of Pippin's soul back inside of him. "It was the finest kiss I've ever been party to." Merry paused waiting for Pippin's spirit to fill his soul again, then he looked in Pippin's eyes, panic-stricken. "Nothing's happening."

Pippin stroked Merry's face gently and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. A small, sweet breath left Pippin's mouth and glided into Merry's as if Pippin was breathing life into his cousin. Merry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply and felt the glorious, familiar presence fill the empty space in his heart. Pippin had used the power Merry had so feared to make him whole and happy again. How could he have ever thought Pippin could do otherwise?

"Better?" Pippin asked.

Merry responded with a kiss as passionate as their first, his tongue teasing Pippin's willing mouth open. Pippin groaned with delight as their tongues intertwined. Merry tugged gently at Pippin's silken curls as Pippin ran his hands down Merry's back and the curve of his hips. Merry sat further back on the bed and pulled Pippin into his lap. Pippin withdrew slightly, panting. "What are you doing?"

"Do you want me to stop?" Merry asked in a husky whisper.

"Not really, no," he replied and kissed Merry again. Pippin cried out in pleasant surprise when Merry reached underneath his nightshirt and pulled it over his head. Merry ran his hands over his bare flesh, his fingers circling around Pippin's nipples, then he flicked each with his tongue in turn. Pippin buried his fingers in his cousin's hair, instinctively grinding his pelvis against Merry's. With a gasp, Merry threw his head back and Pippin leaned in for another sultry kiss.

"Does this mean you're in love with me?" Pippin asked triumphantly, already knowing the answer.

Merry wrestled Pippin unto his back and smiled adoringly at his young cousin. "More than that; it means that I belong to you and you belong to me. That's the way it's always been, but you just figured it out before I did."

Pippin giggled gleefully. "And you're supposed to be the clever one." He unbuttoned Merry's shirt, then tossed it aside. Even though Pippin had seen Merry's bare chest before, he gazed at him awestruck, fingers lightly exploring his skin. "All mine," he said with tears in his eyes, as if he could hardly believe such a wonderful thing was possible.

Merry kissed away the tears now streaming down Pippin's cheeks, then began exploring every inch of Pippin's torso with his lips and tongue. Then Merry hovered above Pippin with a torturous grin as if deciding what to do next.

Pippin put his hands on Merry's hips and drew him back on top of him. "Don't tease me, Merry."

Merry's grey eyes clouded over, suddenly serious. "I don't think I'm ready to do that thing you mentioned a few days ago," he said breathlessly, thrilled at the feeling of Pippin growing hard against his straining groin, "but there are other things we could do in the meantime--if you want to."

"Anything and everything," Pippin moaned, arching his back and pressing his pelvis hard into Merry's.

Merry started to rock Pippin back and forth, the gentle pace soon quickened when Merry felt Pippin's full arousal. Pippin gasped out his name and threw his arms around Merry's neck. Merry took Pippin's legs and wrapped them around his waist. They locked eyes, Pippin melting at the self-satisfied expression on Merry's face as he brought him to a shattering orgasm.

"_MERRY_!" Pippin cried out louder than he should have, but it was drowned out by the clamor in the common room directly below them. Pippin kissed Merry's neck, then reached down to cup his cousin's rump through his breeches. "Say my name," Pippin hissed, mirroring the rapturous look on Merry's face.

"Pippin," he groaned, increasing the pace of the rhythmic swaying "_Oh, Pippin_!_ PIPPIN!"_ Merry arched his back as he climaxed explosively. Merry lay panting with Pippin still beneath him. Pippin giggled, quite please with himself indeed.

Merry yawned. "I need a nap--and a bath."

Pippin still had his legs wrapped around Merry's waist and was loath to let him go. "But you said you'd show me everything."

"I suppose I did." Merry removed his damp breeches and cleaned them both up quickly. Then he told Pippin to lie down on his back. Merry started kissing Pippin's lips and neck then made his way downward, to his chest and stomach. "This is something Estel--I mean, a certain Hobbit lass did for me once." He looked up at Pippin, who seemed a little dubious. "Trust me, you'll like it."

Pippin liked it so well he almost fainted when Merry finally reached his destination. When Pippin recovered, he reciprocated eagerly. They spent most of the night pleasuring each other until they finally fell asleep in each other's arms, exhausted.

Early the next morning, Merry awoke with his hand in a puddle of sticky fluid. He grimaced and wiped his hand on a corner of the sheet that wasn't already covered with semen. "Pippin!"

Pippin started awake. "What!"

Merry tried to look severe, but broke out in a lopsided smile. "Look at the mess you made last night."

"The mess _I_ made?" Pippin replied indignantly. "I seem to remember you having something to do with it."

"Not me. Everyone knows you're the messy one." They laughed and wrestled, finding more puddles to roll into, and laughed even harder. Merry finally pinned Pippin down and licked the tip of Pippin's nose. Pippin pulled Merry down for a deep, good-morning kiss, but his cousin pulled away and jumped out of bed.

"Merry!" Pippin cried in aggravation. "Why did you stop?"

Merry gave Pippin a quick kiss as consolation. He then grabbed a towel and put it around his waist. "If we start up again we won't get out of here before afternoon tea and I want us to reach Crickhollow by the day after tomorrow."

After a welcome bath, they sat in their private parlor and had what they had hoped would be a leisurely breakfast, but Nob, the normally friendly Bree-hobbit servant, shot them evil stares all through the meal. He gave them surly grunts in response to their requests and threw the dishes down on the table so hard that there was more food on the floor than on the cracked plates.

Finally, Pippin took his arm and said in his easiest manner, "Something's eating at you this morning, Nob. Why don't you take a seat and tell us about it so we can enjoy our breakfast."

Nob pulled away and glared at him with undisguised revulsion. "You want to know what's eatin' at me? It's unnatural what you was doing last night."

Pippin turned to Merry with panic in his eyes. Merry felt his face flush with embarrassment mixed with anger. "What business is it of yours?"

"As it's my job to clean up after you, I'd say it's very much my business. And you both fine, gentlehobbits and all." Nob spat on the wooden floor. "Going against nature, that is. You'll both come to a bad end because of it, mark my words."

"How dare you--!" Merry sprang from his chair and reached for Nob, but the Bree-hobbit stumbled backward.

"Who cares what he thinks, Merry?" Pippin said with forced calm as he put a restraining hand on Merry's shoulder. "Let's go home."

"That's right," Nob said, "take your evil ways back to the Shire and leave decent Bree-folk alone."

Before Pippin could stop him, Merry caught Nob and lifted the Bree-hobbit by his shirt front far enough off the ground so Merry could look him straight in his dull eyes. "Say one word to anyone and I'll kill you. I have spies everywhere, I'll know." Merry dropped the trembling Hobbit to the floor. Nob half-crawled, half-ran back downstairs.

Pippin gazed at Merry with renewed desire in his eyes. "I didn't know you had spies."

"I don't, but that thick-headed rascal doesn't know that." No longer hungry, they left their breakfast and retrieved their packs.

"I wonder if our friends will react like that when we tell them." Pippin sighed, suddenly afraid. "_If_ we tell them."

Merry kissed him and stroked his cheek. "We'll tell Frodo and Sam at least and hope for the best."

The last leg of their journey took a full day longer than originally planned, but Merry and Pippin were anxious to savor their last hours together with no fear of discovery before they were subjected to the prying eyes and ears of the Shire.

Merry left Pippin at Crickhollow to get them settled while Merry continued on to Brandy Hall. Merry sent one of his young cousins with a message to Frodo, letting him know they were safe. He then gathered a few provisions and something special for Pippin.

When Merry arrived home--_their_ home, he thought happily--Pippin had drawn a hot bath for them both. Fortunately, Pippin had also prepared a cold supper for them as well, as neither of them had the energy to cook after the relaxing soak. They slept wrapped in each other's arms until late evening.

Merry awoke to find Pippin gazing up at him. Merry pulled back a few of Pippin's stray curls from his face and kissed him on the forehead. "I have a surprise for you."

Pippin raised his head expectantly. "Well, don't leave us in suspense!"

Merry reached under his pillow and pulled out a pretty blue jar. Merry swallowed nervously. "It's the oil my mother puts on her feet. I suspect it'll do as well as grease and smell better besides."

Pippin sat up as his breathing started to come in short gasps. "You're going to take me now?"

Merry winced. "I wish you wouldn't put it quite that way, but yes--if you're ready."

Pippin tore off his breeches and shirt, and threw them across the room. He then climbed on top of Merry and showered him with kisses.

Merry laughed. "I guess you're ready."

Since the description Pippin had related was so vague, their first lovemaking effort consisted largely of trial and error. Merry was grieved that he hurt Pippin so much at first, but the pain eventually melted into pleasure for them both.

"I'd marry you if I could, Pippin," Merry whispered as they lay together afterward.

"Don't talk about things we can't have," Pippin murmured into Merry's chest. "I don't want to think of anything but you and Crickhollow."

Merry stroked Pippin's hair to comfort him, but Merry knew that someday the world outside would intrude on their little paradise. For now he was content to inhale the sweet aroma of Pippin's hair and skin and enjoy the feel of his arms around him.

During the next week, Merry and Pippin planned a small Homecoming Party in between consummating their love in every room of their little cottage (not to mention several times in the garden). By mid-afternoon on the day of the party, Sam and Rosie Gamgee drove up in a little carriage with Frodo; Merry helped Rosie from the carriage and led the three of them inside.

Pervinca Took galloped into the garden on a pony a moment later, wearing boy's breeches underneath her skirts.

"No wonder you don't have a husband," Pippin said with a grin as he helped Vinca out of the saddle.

Vinca socked him in the arm, then burst into tears and hugged her brother tightly.

Pippin patted her on the head affectionately. "I missed you too, Vinca."

"I wouldn't go near Tuckborough for another year or two, Pippin," she sniffed, "but Papa's sure to forgive you eventually."

Pippin gave her a wry smile. "That's encouraging."

Vinca put her hands on her hips and regarded her brother with feigned exasperation. "So, when are you going to tell me why you caused all this trouble?"

Pippin looked into his sister's eyes hoping he had made the right decision by inviting her. "Come inside and we'll tell you everything."

The six Hobbits sat in Crickhollow's cozy parlor and chatted about things that mattered not at all, then they sat down to afternoon tea in the garden. Merry and Pippin were the perfect hosts, providing their friends with a delicious meal, as well as the best ale and wine in Buckland.

After they all had their fill, they returned to the parlor, but the meaningless chatter did not follow. They sat in relative silence as the tension emanating from Merry and Pippin became palpable. Frodo, Sam, and Rosie were far too polite to say anything, but Vinca had no such reservations. "Are you going to tell us this big secret or let us sit here until we burst?"

The others started to snicker; even Merry and Pippin cracked a smile.

"Yes, please tell us," said Frodo lightly, "or you'll be sweeping up pieces of Hobbit from now until Yule."

Merry and Pippin stood and looked nervously at each of their friends in turn. Pippin took a deep breath and wondered if this would be the last time he would see such open smiles on their faces. "I'm sorry for leaving like I did and worrying all of you so. The reason I left the Shire was because I couldn't--" Pippin faltered and looked to Merry for courage.

"Go on, Pip," Merry said. "It'll be all right."

"I left because I couldn't tell Merry that I was--am...in love with him." Pippin stopped to gauge his friends' reactions. Vinca looked rather stunned, but Frodo and Sam just smiled encouragingly. Rosie looked as if she was about to squeal with delight. Pippin became bolder and took Merry's hand. "But then Merry came after me and now we're--"

"Sweethearts," Merry supplied.

Rosie could no longer contain her glee. She sprang off the sofa and hugged Pippin so enthusiastically she almost knocked them both over. "Oh, I do so love happy endings!"

"Begging your pardon, Pippin," said Sam, "but when Rosie told me why you left...."

Pippin shot Rosie an annoyed glanced. She just shrugged sheepishly.

Sam continued, "What I mean to say is that it don't come as any great surprise to those who know and love you well."

"Quite right, Sam." Frodo put a hand on each of his cousins' arms. "And we're very happy for you both." Pippin was about to give Rosie another withering look when Frodo smiled. "I figured it out on my own after we received your letters, Pippin. I'm glad you found each other, as it were, but you must be careful."

"We know," said Merry darkly.

"We'll be careful, Frodo," said Pippin.

"I sincerely hope you are." Frodo seemed reluctant to bring the subject up on what was turning out to be a most happy occasion, but he must have felt it his duty. "You both know as well as I do that there are those who do not love you as we do and would take no little pleasure in your disgrace." Pippin and Merry nodded knowingly. As heirs to two of the most important families in the Shire, they both naturally had a few jealous rivals.

Frodo paused and said with a foreboding tone, "And there are still others who would fear your love and would see you both driven from the Shire altogether."

Merry and Pippin regarded each other anxiously, but their gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a slightly confused Pervinca:

"When you say 'sweethearts', do you mean that the two of you hide in the bushes to kiss each other and things like that?"

Merry tried not to chuckle, but failed.

"Well," said Pippin, his cheeks turning a bright red, "we don't usually hide in the bushes, but yes, that's what we mean."

Vinca wrinkled her nose in disgust. Before Pippin could regret inviting her, she said with sardonic grin, "Why would Merry want to kiss you?"

Merry burst out laughing and Vinca looked quite pleased with her little joke.

"Then you don't mind?" Pippin asked. "You'll keep it secret?"

"First of all," Vinca replied, "I hate funerals. Papa would kill you both if he found out. Secondly, I have never cared what either of you do as long as you wait until I leave to do it."

Pippin glanced at Merry guiltily. Merry started to whistle softly and looked up at the ceiling.

Vinca scowled. "Honestly!"

"Oh," said Sam innocently, "that's what you were doing when the two of you went to the cellar to fetch more wine, then came back all mussed and empty-handed." Rosie grasped Sam's arm and exploded into a fit of giggles. Sam went as red as a beet and started snickering himself.

"Thank you, Samwise Gamgee, for the picture that just formed in my head." Vinca's distaste softened into giggles. "Now I need more wine to wash it out and I'd rather marry Ted Sandyman than go down into that cellar!"

Merry was blushing furiously, but happily joined in the absurd conversation. "Frodo, I wouldn't sit in that chair either."

Frodo jumped out of his chair and almost rolled over with laughter. "I suspect the two of you have defiled all of Crickhollow by now!"

Pippin went to his sister and covered her ears. "Every last inch of it."

Hobbits didn't normally talk about such intimate matters, particularly in mixed company, but they were hardly normal Hobbits and it certainly wasn't a normal Hobbity situation. The merriment helped ease the awkwardness of all of them having to adjust to Merry and Pippin's new relationship.

Merry went to the cellar--alone this time--and everyone had as much ale and wine as they could drink. After supper, Vinca (well into her cups) quietly admitted to Frodo that Merry and Pippin made a fine couple indeed.

The End


End file.
